


the more things change ...

by aprincessofdaxam



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M, space puppies in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 23:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14725920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprincessofdaxam/pseuds/aprincessofdaxam
Summary: Kara and Mon-El’s second first time.





	the more things change ...

**Author's Note:**

> PG-13 (suggestive, not explicit). Setting: Mon-El stays in the 21st century. He and Imra had some sort of amicable parting (either the one that is now canon, or something else you imagine). Everyone wins.

The way they laugh with each other, when it happens, is still the same. He’s a little older and more serious, and she’s a little more thoughtful and more measured - how could they not be, with the years and the losses and the hard lessons? He laughs a little less easily - but when he does, he still uses his whole body, and she can’t not smile along. It's that familiar sparkle of mischief in his eye - all the more precious the more rare it's become - that has her heart speeding up, and has him smiling knowingly when he hears it. And this time, when she soars through the deepening twilight over her peaceful city back to her apartment, he’s right there beside her.

She can feel his Legion ring when he laces his fingers with hers by the window they forget to close, a reminder of all the years he learned to keep the world spinning without her. But when he pulls her close, she feels his desire, how much he wants her, how much he has always wanted her, across time, across galaxies, all the way back to this Earth, here and now, where they both choose to be. 

“Hi,” he whispers again, with a soft smile, which she leans up to meet halfway. 

When they are forced to break apart for oxygen - their lungs are superpowered, but not invincible - he doesn’t pull his mouth from her skin for more than an instant. The new sensation of his beard rasping against her skin as he trails kisses down her neck and to her collarbone makes her gasp, and for just a fleeting moment, she wonders if it will be different. She wonders if he wonders the same, if she feels different at all to him, because even though his pupils are blown, eyes dark and serious, his hands are shaking.

But despite the brief moment of insecurity, she can’t feel jealousy for who he loved during those years - she feels nothing but gratitude that Imra kept him safe, protected his heart in her hands, kept him from succumbing to his pragmatism, which can veer to the ruthless at times. They’re all three sworn to protect people - but that also includes protecting each other. Before she takes a deep breath and dives into her nerves, dragging him blindly with her, she offers up a fleeting prayer that somewhere out there, in whatever future they have changed, that Imra is joyfully keeping the world spinning with her sister, with someone she loves. 

She’s still just as clumsy, both of them laughing into each other’s mouths as she stumbles while they leave a trail of clothes in their wake en route to her bed, just like the first time. She trips out of her boots as one catches on the end of her cape, dragging him down with her, and a puppyish tussle ends with her pinned beneath him, the mood turning serious again.

The years have made him leaner, stronger - she runs her hands over the taut muscles of his arms and down his back, learning him again. She’s maybe still stronger, but not by much. She could still probably take the upper hand, if she chose to. She still chooses not to. And she still likes it - likes knowing both that she doesn’t have to be strong, that she can let him love her; and doesn’t have to fear her strength, that she can love him without breaking him. 

She’d buried Kara Danvers deep after he left, locking her away under ice to try to numb that pain in her heart. Kara Danvers loved, Kara Danvers lost, and Supergirl was safer, she’d thought. But she’d almost forgotten - she wasn’t Kara Danvers, wearing a mask to fool the world, or Supergirl, with all the responsibility, with him - she was just Kara Zor-El, free to be exactly who she is around the one person who's always understood, another refugee of a dead planet who remembers one world, but freely chooses to make a home on this one. She's just Kara Zor-El, who is clumsy and who remembers the Bismuth Mountains and who can’t cook and who loves music. And the man in her bed, who whispers in his native tongue as he loves her, is not a prince or Valor or Mike Matthews, he’s just Mon-El, who is gregarious and loved garata and crossword puzzles and scribbles in the margins of books.

Breathing one another in, absolutely bare, they can just be, and that’s enough - then, now, anywhere in time.


End file.
